


not just for the good times, but for the hard times too

by aliaaaaaa



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Percival Graves, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Lactation Kink, M/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Newt Scamander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 05:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12425940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: Newt takes care of Percival in the sweetest, filthiest way possible.





	not just for the good times, but for the hard times too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vaderina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/gifts).



> I want to write consensual office sex for these two since I've read a lot of dubious consent/non-consensual office sex and it doesn’t satisfy me. I think they deserve sweetness and softness. this has been beta-read by Vaderina!
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

  
Being a firm boss doesn’t mean that Percival Graves has no heart and the need to be soft.    
  
He needs softness the most and lucky for him Newt Scamander is always ready to give it to him; be it in a form of chaste kisses on the cheeks before a meeting or earnest praises after Percival manages to lead his team to take down the black market ring in the city.   
  
It’s a known fact amongst Percival’s Aurors that sweet Newt is very protective of their boss. They are aware that New wants to take care of the man. He wants to make sure that their boss knows that he is not alone; that Newt is there for him, not just for the fun times but during hard times too.   
  
So when Newt lingers in the Magical Security Department after office hours, Fontaine and O’Brien don’t question him. There’s no harm in having Newt around the department because he’s always there to check up on their boss; carrying his battered suitcase with him.   


They leave him be because they know that Newt is good for the Director and right now their boss needs some tender loving care after his disastrous meeting with the Madame President.

  
Which is probably why Newt is in the department in the first place when he heard about the shouting match between Percival and Picquery from Queenie during their weekly meeting. 

Sure enough, when he peers inside, Newt sees Percival at his cluttered desk, sitting on the cushy leather wingback chair; resting the back of his head against the soft cushion. His eyes are closed tightly, large hand massages his temple.    
  
“Rough day?” Newt inquires, stepping into the office; closing the door with a quiet click before leaning his back firmly against it, suitcase swinging dangerously before he places it on the floor.   
  
Percival opens his eyes a fraction before closing them again. 

A soft groan of “Yes” is heard as Newt pushes himself from where he is standing, making his ways towards Percival’s desk, noting the crumpled memos and the three dirty cups of coffee staining the reports.   
  
Instead of sitting in his usual chair, Newt goes behind Percival; looming over the man and resting his hands on Percival’s shoulders, pressing firmly against taut muscles.    
  
“You’re so tense and you’re not fit to work anymore,” Newt frets at the man gently; clever fingers digging into hard muscles, massaging the deep tissues. “Come home with me. I’ll draw you a hot bath and you can relax in it while I make us dinner.”   
  
From the happy hums that escape Percival’s throat, Newt knows his lover is imagining the warmth of their shared apartment; longs for the softness of their shared bed.

“I can’t,” Percival laments, heavy regret in his tone. “I have to re-read the Statute of Secrecy Law and make some major amendments before noon tomorrow.”

Newt rubs Percival’s shoulders soothingly; circling his palms against the soft fabric of his shirt, his hands making their way up to Percival’s neck to squeeze gently.

“Can’t it wait?” Newt asks softly, leaning down to press his face against Percival’s cheek, inhaling the fading smell of citrus aftershave on warm skin.

“Picquery wants the document on her desk tomorrow before the meeting,” Percival explains, looking to his left and catching Newt’s dry mouth against his own in a gentle kiss, sighing, “I wish I could go home with you.”

Newt hums; brushing their lips together again; his hands against Percival’s expensive shirt making soft rustling noises as he rubs Percival’s arms up and down, before locking them around Percival’s torso in a tight embrace.

“Will you do me a favour and take a break for a bit?” Newt requests, resting his chin on Percival’s shoulder as the man goes soft in his arms.

“Only for a bit,” Percival concedes and chuckles warmly for the first time that day when Newt peppers his neck with butterfly kisses.

“Come on, up you go. Sit on the desk,” Newt instructs, pulling Percival’s body up so effortlessly like Percival weighs nothing and Newt makes a mental note to bring him a big breakfast tomorrow. 

“Are we going to do something scandalous in my office, Mr. Scamander?” Percival leers when he sits on his desk, ignoring the way the thick report makes crinkling noises underneath his ass. To hell with the report, Percival thinks, Newt’s warm, calloused palms are pressing against his chest; his usually bright golden-green eyes darkening a bit when he brushes his thumbs against Percival’s nipples.

“I just want to make you feel good,” Newt crooned, thumbs going back and forth on Percival’s chest; liking the way Percival pushes his upper body out for more contact. “I hate seeing you all worked up like this. It makes me feel like a bad husband for not taking care of my wife.”

“I’m your wife now?” Percival asks breathlessly, gasping when Newt presses his thumbs on Percival’s nipples; rubbing the soft nubs to hardness.

“You are _mine_. Words matter not,” Newt reassured darkly; eyes never leaving Percival’s face, memorising the way Percival’s bites his bottom lip, the way his pink tongue peeks out to wet his mouth. The surprised sounds he makes when Newt twists his nipples so suddenly. “That’s it. Be good for me, Percy. Let me take care of you.”

“Newt,” Percival gasps when Newt pushes the chair out of the way and smoothly slides in between his strong thighs, trapping him perfectly. “We shouldn’t — _ ohh _ — shouldn’t be doing this. You’re violating the office conduct.”

“To hell with the conduct,” Newt curses, twisting Percival’s nipples even tighter, drawing out low whines that makes him smile a bit meanly at the way Percival’s eyes have gone glassy from pleasure. “Let yourself go, Percival. Lose that tight self control. Come on, darling.”

Percival pulls Newt down by his neck, smooshing their faces together; lips seeking to bite, to nibble, to nip in mock frustration.

“You’re going to get me fired, Newt,” Percival complains against his lover’s freckled lush mouth but he allows Newt to loosen the shirt; looping one button at a time with expertise; pushing the silk fabric over his shoulders. 

“Good then,” Newt chuckles, licking Percival’s neck while pushing the man down to lie on the surface, long legs dangling off the edge. 

Newt nibbles on the supple skin, tasting the faint sweat, leaving marks for everyone to see. “You should stay at home like the good wife you ought to be. Cook for me, clean for me. Wait for me to come back to fuck you all over the place,” Newt’s tongue licks from the pale column of Percival’s neck, down to his heaving chest; teasing the already puffy nipple with the tip before suckling it.

Percival’s fingers latch onto Newt’s curly hair; pulling the man closer to his flushed chest. 

“Fuck, Newt.”

“In a minute, sweetheart,” Newt grins when Percival tries to push him off. He presses closer, resting one palm on Percival’s thigh; his other hand makes its way down to Percival’s flat stomach. “Hmm I’m imagining you staying at home with no hounding responsibilities to bog you down. I’m imagining knocking you up. Have you carry my child,” Newt muses lowly, his palm rubbing the taut muscle of Percival’s belly. “You will look good with a round belly, darling. And these tits will be swollen too. Full of sweet milk for me to suckle.”

Percival pants, biting his lip and furrowing his brows; trying to hide his aroused cock when his head has the clear picture of himself being pregnant with Newt’s child. He whines when Newt leans down to lick his belly; a long strip of wet trail that ends just above his underwear.

“Are you aroused?” Newt asks cheekily when he presses his tongue against the visible bulge of Percival’s cock. “Do you want to get knocked up, Percy? Have my bastard child to continue the Graves’ name? Or do you want me to get down on my knees to suck you dry before I put a ring around your cock? Make you an honest man.”

Percival, his patience running thin with Newt’s constant teasing, pushes Newt down until the man’s face is being squished against his bulge. 

“You’re all talk but no cock, Mr. Scamander,” Percival hisses; undulating his hips up to grind his crotch against Newt’s warm mouth. “Quit teasing me and fuck me proper if you want to knock me up.”

Newt’s low chuckle vibrates against Percival’s hard length. He looks down and sees Newt already looking at him, his eyes are two shades darker now. The golden hues are hidden behind lust.

“Feisty,” Newt purrs. “I do love it when you get mouthy with me. It makes your surrender much sweeter.”

Percival doesn’t get the chance to sass back how Newt should put  _ his _ mouth to good use when he feels the familiar warm magic engulfing his lower body. The belt unlooping itself languidly, the sound of the zipper being pulled down. Newt even taps Percival’s leg so he can raise his hips a bit, taking the trousers off in one smooth glide. 

He feels his cheeks warming up when Newt hovers over his body. Newt is skinnier than Percival but even then it doesn’t hide the fact that Newt’s body is all tight muscles from doing hard labour and wrestling with dangerous creatures. 

When Newt curls one arm possessively over Percival’s head, the Director can see the way his forearms bulge deliciously. 

“You do look lovely like this,” Newt says, staring down at Percival with piercing gaze, drinking in the way Percival is biting his lip, the skin around his neck and shoulders have started blooming with faded red marks and his nipples still swollen. 

Percival looks away because he feels vulnerable. Soft. All of his bravado has left him when Newt’s magic has stripped them both from their clothes, leaving them naked; tanned skin pressing against pale skin. The warmth of another body pressing against his own makes Percival shiver in anticipation.

“Shy, aren’t you?” Newt teases, lowering his body until their chest and belly and hips are aligned together perfectly. “Looking like a shy maiden even when your cock is leaking. Such contrast for someone of your standing. Letting a man touch you wherever he likes, begging for said man to knock you up.”

“Newt…” Percival moans when he rocks his hips up to brush his cock against Newt’s sack. 

“A right whore if I ever see one,” Newt hisses, capturing Percival’s mouth into a searing kiss. “Tell me, Mr. Graves,” Newt croons, licking Percival’s upper lip before nipping the flesh. “Do you want my mouth on your twitching hole? Or my cock filling you?” 

Percival gasps when Newt slips his hand to wrap his fingers around their dicks; slow pumping his hand and getting satisfied from seeing Percival’s helpless expression.

“Which one would it be, Mr. Graves?”

“Mouth, please,” Percival answers, keen and high when Newt drags his blunt fingernails around his slit. “Your mouth — _fuck_ — then your cock.”

“Greedy,” Newt admonishes, but he shimmies down Percival’s body easily, taking the swollen, leaking cock into his mouth to suck before letting it out to plop down against Percival’s heaving belly.

A soft touch to his furled hole makes Percival’s whole body jerk up. It isn’t like he isn’t anticipating the touch but Newt’s tongue is warm as with the brush of his hair against Percival’s thigh. He tries to regulate his breathing, tries not to pull Newt’s head in so he would bury his clever tongue inside but Newt is being a teasing bastard again; giving kitten lick to the side of his thighs, avoiding the clenching hole.

Percival knows Newt knows that he is frustrated by the way Newt flickers his eyes up to gauge at his reaction. Then, slowly, teasingly Newt leans forward until his face is buried in between Percival’s strong thighs and he feels the familiar wet slide of broad muscle over his rim, licking him languidly until he cries out in pleasure. 

Newt nips at the inside of his thigh; probably an attempt to quiet him down but even that makes Percival chokes on his moan.

Percival never equated pleasure to trust and intimacy before but with Newt, he believes in those qualities now. Only with Newt is he comfortable enough to let himself go, to be pliant and soft, to be talked down to without feeling dirty or used because he knows Newt adores him, loves him even that he will never intentionally hurt him.

With Newt he gets to be wanton like this. Tweaking his puffy nipples as he whimpers and begs; gasping Newt’s name when he feels Newt’s tongue licking over his hole and pressing so slowly in. 

Newt keeps one hand holding Percival open, while he blindly reaches for Percival’s hand to place it on his head and Percival complies readily. Fingers sifting through the curls before he pulls Newt in by his hair, thrusting his hips up to fuck himself on Newt’s tongue, feeling the familiar electric bursting underneath his skin; his magic going erratic just as his body shakes from the pleasure. 

The scream is torn right out from his throat when he feels two fingers slipping past his swollen rim. He doesn’t care if they’re in his office, violating several office codes of conduct or that anyone could just walk into his office and watch him writhe on his desk with Newt in between his legs because it feels too good to stop, to keep his voice down when Newt grazes his sweet spot with the fingers while tonguing his hole. 

Percival can hear himself sobbing, a litany of Newt’s name and “more” and “oh gods” tumbling out from his mouth. He can feel sweat breaking on his forehead, on his back, in between his shaking thighs. Feel Newt move his head up and down, the sound of him gulping his saliva. The vibration of Newt’s moan when Percival locks his thighs around Newt’s back and how he fucks himself even harder, groaning even louder as he streaks his own stomach and chest with thick come. 

When Newt gives him one last lick, Percival’s cock twitches in interest, but his body is too exhausted for him to get hard again and it’s apparent by the way he suddenly feels Newt’s clammy hand against his cheek, caressing his face softly with kisses.

“Hello,” Newt greets when Percival flutters his eyes open. “You look gorgeous like this, love. How are you feeling?”

Percival draws in a deep breath, gulping down precious air before he opens his mouth to speak. “Did you come?”

Newt chuckles, warm and soft as he gathers Percival’s into his arms; another bout of warm magic engulfing both of them as Newt spells them clean. “The important thing here is you came. My pleasure is only secondary.”

“But I want you to feel good too,” Percival whines, nestling himself closer into Newt’s embrace, resting his head against Newt’s chest. “Plus you promised to knock me up, and you haven’t done that yet.”

“I feel good just by seeing you rest up like this,” Newt answers, brushing a kiss on Percival’s ear before he nibbles at the lobe. “‘Sides, I can always knock you up after this when you’re not drowning in reports. A good thing doesn’t need to be rushed, dear heart.”

Percival hums contently, feeling every taut muscles in his body loosening up. He stretches his neck up to kiss Newt’s chin gently, murmuring a soft “Thank you.”

Newt’s eyes are bright with fondness and smiling so wide as he carries Percival in his arms to the soft sofa at the center of the office.

“Sleep,” Newt commands, conjuring a blanket out of thin air and smoothing the fabric out on top of Percival’s body. “I’ll wake you up in an hour or two.”

“I love you,” Percival says, soft and sleepy, his eyes fluttering shut as his breathing even out. 

“I love you too,” Newt answers, equally soft and no less fond; pressing a kiss against Percival’s cheek before he dims the light.

He still wishes that he could take Percival home with him, but Newt knows that responsibilities to MACUSA comes first for Percival. He doesn’t resent it. Not one bit because he too would do whatever it takes if one of the creatures was in danger and in need of his utmost attention.

That in itself makes him and Percival compatible; how they both understand the nature of their respective work. Still, if Percival can’t come home with him, then he will be there to accompany Percival.

After all, he’s in this not just for the good times, but for the hard times too.  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you have reached this point, thank you so much for reading! kudos and comment are really much appreciated!


End file.
